


We're Just Friends

by hmweasley



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/M, One-Sided Harry Potter/Ginny Weasley, One-Sided Hermione Granger/Harry Potter - Freeform, Out of Character Harry Potter
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-06
Updated: 2019-01-06
Packaged: 2019-10-05 04:45:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,423
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17318336
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hmweasley/pseuds/hmweasley
Summary: Hermione tried her best to stress to Harry that they're just friends, but he seems to have trouble understanding. When Ron admits his feelings for Hermione as well, she's not sure how to make things work between them when she's already rejected Harry.





	We're Just Friends

**Author's Note:**

> Based on the song "Friends" by Anne-Marie and Marshmello.
> 
> Prompt:  
> (word) connection

Hermione offered Harry a smile as he slid in across from her at the Gryffindor table in the Great Hall. She was hurrying to finish dinner, so she could get back to reading _Hogwarts, A History_. She hadn’t considered the passage on moving portraits carefully enough the last several times she’d read it, and she wanted to better analyze the way in which the models for the portraits were chosen.

“Hermione, can I ask you something?”

She lifted her gaze to her best friend again, setting her fork down to better give him her attention. The portraits could wait if something significant had happened with one of her friends.

“What is it?” she asked, her mind flickering to the increasing danger Voldemort presented.

Just thinking about how the Ministry refused to accept that he was back made her blood boil. If she heard of yet another student giving Harry a hard time or calling him a liar, she thought she might snap.

“I was wondering if you wanted go to Hogsmeade with me,” he said in a rush, smashing the words together until they were indistinguishable from each other.

It took Hermione a second to work out what he’d said, and her brow creased in confusion.

“What do you mean?” she asked. “We always go to Hogsmeade together. By the way, would you mind if we stopped to pick up some quills first thing? One of mine broke the other day. Ron said that was all right, but I wanted to mention it to you too.”

“I don’t mean like we usually do,” Harry continued as if Hermione hadn’t mentioned the quill shop. His cheeks turned red. “I meant as a date. Maybe. If you wanted to.”

Hermione froze, all of her senses going on high alert.

“Like, without Ron?” she asked, eyes narrowing in confusion.

From the way Harry averted his eyes from her gaze, she knew that was exactly what he was asking. She leant away from him in surprise, nothing that he wouldn’t stop fidgeting as he waited for her to answer his offer.

“Er.” Hermione cleared her throat. “What prompted this? I thought you liked Cho Chang?”

Harry shrugged, rubbing at the back of his neck. He still wouldn’t look at her.

“I did, but after what happened with Cedric, I don’t think anything can happen between us. And, well, you’re my best friend, Hermione, and you’re really great—”

Hermione held up her hand to stop him from speaking.

“Please don’t.”

Her chest tightened as she prepared herself for what she needed to say. There was no way she could feel for Harry what he had apparently come to feel for her, but rejecting him was the most uncomfortable thing she’d ever done. She’d have rather faced off with Umbridge again. At least being right gave her some satisfaction there.

Rejecting Harry only left her feeling nauseous. Not only did she have to hurt Harry, but she knew she couldn’t keep what had happened from Ginny, who Hermione had been advising on how best to capture Harry’s attention just a day before. It wasn’t just one of her closest friends whose feelings she was hurting.

“I’m sorry, Harry, but I just don’t think about you like that. You’re my best friend too, but we’re only that: friends.”

Harry took a deep breath, nodding.

“I understand,” he said, rubbing his hands against his pants to get rid of the sweat on his palms.

Hermione picked her fork up to fiddle with it, not sure how to politely escape from the conversation when her meal still laid half eaten in front of her.

“Can we never talk about this again?” Harry asked, letting out a small, self-deprecating laugh.

“Sure,” Hermione said, letting out her own deep exhale. “That sounds good. It never happened.”

She was sure she’d never actually be able to forget the words that had been exchanged between them, but the idea was an appealing one. She was happy to attempt it.

Even once Harry had fled from the table, she felt as if all eyes in the hall were on her.

* * *

As Hermione expected, things weren’t the same between her and Harry after that day. They tried, but there was no taking back what had been said. Harry would give her sad looks at times, reminding her of what had happened, and Hermione wouldn’t be able to look him in the eye for the rest of the day.

They both did their best to hide the tension from Ron, neither actually explaining to him that something had happened. Only a very disappointed Ginny knew the story, and she’d never tell Ron. The idea of Ron knowing made Hermione’s stomach twist into knots for reasons that only served to make her feel guiltier about the whole thing.

It took a week of her avoiding Harry without it seeming like she was avoiding him before Ron confronted her about it in the library. She stared at him as he sat down. It had been a month since he’d last come to the library with her, and he’d only come then because she’d dragged him along, insisting that he finish his Defence essay no matter how terrible Umbridge was.

“What’s going on with you and Harry?” he asked as he tossed his bag on the ground.

Hermione sighed. He certainly hadn’t wasted any time getting to the point.

“Nothing,” she said with a shrug. “Why would you think something had happened?”

Ron blinked once as if her question confused him.

“You’re acting weird,” he said slowly. “At breakfast, neither one of you would speak to each other. I had to keep the conversation going. Something’s not right, but when I asked Harry about it, he said it was nothing.”

Hermione smiled at him. She didn’t want to lie. The world was in too terrible of a state for her to add lying to her friends to the negativity she felt enveloping her.

“Harry and I will be fine,” she said instead, hoping he’d drop the subject if she kept her explanations truthful but vague. “I promise. You don’t need to worry about it. There’s just a lot going on around the school and in the world.”

Ron nodded slowly, his brow furrowed as he tried to dissect what she was saying.

“Have you finished your Potions essay?” she asked, motioning at her own piece of parchment. “Remember, it’s due in a few days.”

Ron swore under his breath and scrambled for his Potions textbook in his bag, his worries about his friends forgotten at least for the time being.

* * *

The following year was difficult. The Ministry was no longer able to ignore that Voldemort had returned. Sirius’ death reminded them all of what was at risk. And, of course, Dumbledore continued to push more responsibility on Harry to end the war.

Throughout it all, Hermione did her best to pretend like Harry had never admitted feelings for her. He was going through so much, and she knew he needed friends. She desperately wanted to be there for him even as her thoughts reminded her that he thought differently of her than she did of him. She couldn’t abandon him, not when he was dealing with so much. He was still her best friend.

When the second Hogsmeade trip of their sixth year rolled around, Hermione had half a mind not to go. There were a number of other ways she could be spending the day that were more productive and were less likely to result in awkward situations, but Harry had insisted that they take a break from everything else happening around them.

That was why she found herself entering the Three Broomsticks, her eyes scanning the pub for her best friends. She found Harry sitting by himself in a corner, one butterbeer in front of him and another across the table that must have been Ron’s, though he was nowhere to be seen.

Hermione approached, unwinding her scarf from around her neck. She placed it around the back of the chair diagonal from Harry.

“Where’s Ron?” she asked, motioning at the unattended butterbeer.

“Actually,” Harry said, pushing the glass towards her and moving to sit in the chair across from her, “this is for you. Ron’s back up at the castle. I might have told him I had plans and couldn’t come to Hogsmeade today.”

Hermione looked between the butterbeer and Harry, disbelief turning to anger as she processed the situation.

“You lied?” she clarified. “To both me and Ron?”

Harry had the decency to look ashamed as he rubbed at the back of his neck. His cheeks were pink, and he kept his eyes averted.

“You’ve hardly talked to me alone for the past year. Ron’s always around. I know you told me you aren’t interested, and I get that, but I want to spend some time just with you, Hermione. Even if it’s just as friends.”

Hermione scoffed, not caring if it was loud enough to carry to the other tables. She snatched her scarf back and began wrapping it around her neck with a roughness that almost strangled her.

“No,” she said. “I’m not spending time with you if you’re going to lie about it. That’s not right, Harry.” She motioned between them. “This isn’t right when I already told you that nothing could happen between us. Did it occur to you that we hadn’t been alone for a reason? I don’t feel comfortable with it right now.”

He didn’t answer. He wouldn’t even look at her as he stared at the butterbeer she hadn’t touched. Hermione scoffed one last time before leaving him behind in the pub.

* * *

Hermione was ensconced amongst the library stacks when Ron found her. She had fallen deeply into a text about the creation of the wolfsbane potion and didn’t notice Ron was there until he pulled out the chair across from her, making it squeak against the floor.

“Is it okay if I join you?” he asked.

She knew from the way he hesitated that he was aware that something was wrong, and she stiffened. For the past year, she’d been careful not to reveal what had happened between her and Harry, all too aware of how it might make Ron feel. Still, if he knew, there was little she could do about it. She nodded, keeping her eyes on him as he sat down.

“Harry told me what happened,” he said, his voice strained as he tried to keep it from rising. “I can’t believe he did that, Hermione. I’m sorry.”

“It’s fine,” she said, offering him a small smile. “You’re definitely not who should be apologizing.”

There was no way he for him to know how much it affected her to have him take her side in the whole affair. Her heart skipped a beat at the way he frowned and clenched his fists together.

“It’s not fine!” he exclaimed, leaning close to keep their conversation private even as his voice strained, wanting to be louder. “You told him to drop it, and then he lied to you. That’s not okay, and you better believe I told him that. We had a right row up in the dormitory. I think we scared Neville.”

Hermione felt herself blush at the idea of Neville knowing what had happened, but she couldn’t do anything about it. At least he was unlikely to spread it to others in the school.

“Thank you,” Hermione said, her voice trembling. She reached over her books to grasp one of Ron’s hands. “That means a lot.”

Ron gave her a smile in return. The tips of his ears were turning red in a way Hermione found endearing.

“I just don’t like Harry like that,” Hermione continued. Now that she had someone other than Ginny who knew, she was surprised at how eager she was to rant about it. “We’ve only ever been friends. It feels strange thinking about being more than that. I wish he could see it how I do. I care about him a lot. I don’t want anything to ruin our friendship.”

Ron’s return smile was more of a grimace.

“I understand,” he said quietly. “No one wants one of their best friends to have a crush on them. Not that I can blame Harry for getting a crush on you when you’re so incredible.”

He hadn’t realized what he was saying until it was out there. His face was as red as Hermione had ever seen it. He squeezed his eyes shut as if it would make him disappear, and Hermione’s insides turned to mush. Her hand that was still clasping his tightened without her permission.

“Ron,” she said, leaning closer across the table, “you think I’m incredible?”

He cringed but nodded.

“If I don’t tell you the truth now, I’ll feel like I’m lying,” he said, looking at the table instead of at her. “I like you, Hermione. I like you a lot. Believe me, I don’t want to make you uncomfortable or make things weird. I swear to Merlin that I’ll never mention it again if you don’t want me to, but it feels like something you should know considering everything with Harry.”

Hermione couldn’t help but laugh from how light she felt hearing Ron admit to how he felt. The sound made Ron look up at her, his eyes wide.

“I like you too,” Hermione said, bouncing a few times in her seat. “I’ve liked you for a long time.”

“Really?” Ron asked. “But Harry—”

“Is a completely different person,” Hermione finished for him. “I can’t like Harry because I already like you. Our connection has always been different than my connection to Harry.”

“So, it doesn’t make you uncomfortable? Me liking you?”

Hermione couldn’t help herself from smirking at the idea of it.

“Of course not. You haven’t tried to trick me into going on a date with you, Ron. You haven’t done anything wrong.”

Ron’s smile widened, and his shoulders sagged in relief.

“Thank Merlin,” he muttered. “I thought it would scare you away if I said something.”

Hermione smiled, and for a moment, neither of them said anything as they sat at the library table stupidly grinning at each other. After awhile, however, Ron’s smile fell.

“But Harry,” he said quietly, removing his hand from Hermione’s. “He still likes you, and he’s my best mate. I can’t… We can’t do anything. Talk about awkward. Can you imagine me going up to Harry and being like, ‘Hey. I know Hermione doesn’t like you and you pissed her off, but she likes me, so we’re going to date. Sorry.’ Shit. I can’t do that.”

Hermione, who still felt rather annoyed with Harry, disagreed, but she couldn’t pressure Ron into making Harry uncomfortable. It didn’t feel right, and at the end of the day, she still cared far more about Harry’s feelings than she wished she did.

“I understand,” she said, offering Ron a small smile.

Ron didn’t smile back. His face was pained as he looked at her, and when he spoke, his voice was choked with emotion.

“Do you think we could talk about it again in the future?” he asked. “One day when Harry’s moved on and things are okay with the three of us? Because if we had Harry’s blessing.... Dating you would make me the happiest person in the world, Hermione.”

Her stomach twisted, and she had no idea if it was a result of happiness or sadness. She nodded and said, “Of course,” blinking tears from her eyes as Ron gathered up his things to go. Never before had she been certain that he was taking a piece of her heart with him as he went.

* * *

Harry was much easier to find than Hermione had expected him to be. He sat in front of the fire in the Gryffindor common room, staring into the flames with a frown on his face. The other students had sensed his bad mood and given him wide berth as he pouted. Hermione sighed, not wanting to face him either but knowing it needed to be done.

Ron was nowhere in sight. She had no idea where he’d gone after leaving the library, but he clearly hadn’t had any desire to stick around the common room with Harry present. That was fine. In fact, it worked in her favour.

She plopped herself down in the armchair across from Harry, making his eyes widen as she dropped her bag to the floor.

“We need to talk,” she said, keeping her voice firm.

“About what?” Harry asked, voice petulant as he crossed his arms against his chest. “You’ve already made yourself clear. You want me to leave you alone, so why are you talking to me?”

Hermione sighed, fighting against the anger raging inside her.

“I don’t want to fight with you, Harry,” she said. “When I said I wanted to be friends, I meant it, but I understand if you need space. I do. There’s one thing I need to talk to you about, and then I promise I’ll never speak to you again if you don’t want me to.”

Harry tilted his head back and forth for a second before motioning for her to go on.

“You and Ron are two of the most important people in the world to me,” she said carefully. “You really are my best friend, and I care for you deeply. I care for Ron too, but my relationship with Ron has never been exactly like my relationship with you.”

Harry cringed. He looked down at his lap and began tugging on a loose string in his jumper.

“If you’re about to tell me you’re in love with Ron, then you can just stop.”

“You knew?” Hermione asked, voice rising.

Harry shrugged, letting out a self-deprecating laugh.

“No,” he said. “Not really. I knew Ron had feelings for you. That’s part of the reason I said something to you last year. I figured I had to before he did, but I didn’t know if you liked him. There were times when I thought you might, but you seem so frustrated with him all the time that I convinced myself you didn’t.”

Hermione didn’t answer right away. She didn’t think either of them would be helped if she told Harry that, yes, she was often frustrated with Ron but not in a way that negated how she felt about him. There were many things she loved about Ron, even if she was often too self-conscious to share those as readily with the world.

She knew telling Harry that would only serve to make him feel inadequate as he compared himself to Ron, and that wasn’t what she wanted. Her feelings for Ron didn’t mean that Harry wasn’t a good person, just that he didn’t fit with her in the way Ron did. The way she and Ron could challenge each other while remaining on each other’s side, always, that was something different than what she had with Harry.

It wasn’t a relationship that she would have labelled as better, but it wasn’t the same. When it came down to it, she could easily lose herself in fantasies of holding Ron’s hand, of kissing him, of marrying him one day. When she tried to picture that with Harry...it felt wrong, and nothing Harry did could change that. They had long ago lost that potential.

“He doesn’t want to hurt you,” Hermione said quietly. “We talked just now, and even though he’s absolutely furious with you, he doesn’t want anything to happen between me and him because he’s worried about hurting your feelings. He’s a good friend.”

Harry was quiet for a moment before whispering, “He is.”

He finally looked Hermione in the eye.

“At the end of the day, the two of you are my best friends, and I want you happy. Even if it hurts, I want the two of you to find happiness with each other.”

Hermione offered him a smile, and Harry managed to return it, even if it was small.

“I think you need to tell Ron that yourself,” she said.

Harry sighed and nodded, standing from his chair.

“He’s up in our dormitory. I’ll go talk to him now.”

Hermione smiled at him as he went. She hoped, though she couldn’t predict the future any better than Trelawny could, that things would be all right between the three of them in the end. She thought, perhaps, that they might be.


End file.
